Walker, PI
by David Carner
Summary: AU Sarah Walker is a private investigator in a present day noir world. She's minding her own business, until a man enters her life and changes it, but is it for the better?
1. Ch 1, The Nerd

A/N: Before you groan, NOT ANOTHER ONE! Some fics are ending, so this is a throw it out there and see what you guys think. I write a series of novels that I actually publish, and I have a short story I've kicked around, using those characters. My main female lead may be based off of Sarah Walker (Totally is). This is an unfinished manuscript I have tweaked to fit the Chuck world. If there's interest we could see more of this world, if not, eh. Remember this is a noir world, but present day (I swear it works). Things are harder, grimier, and the characters have an edge. So give this a try, Walker, PI, Ch 1, The Nerd

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. For the record Steampunk . Chuckster not only gave me her blessing but helped me in working out details in the original short story.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

 _It started out like any other night that summer. I was in my office…melting. It was hot. The kinda hot that made you want to sleep without a stich of clothing on. But not just hot. The air was alive…and oppressive. It was thick enough to cut with a knife, and then pull back the knife to see it had rusted. The window was open to try to cool the office, but the streets still radiated heat and it wafted like the smells of a bakery below, covering you, enveloping you, and squeezing you until you could just barely breathe. The heat had caused a thunderstorm to break, and the rain was coming down, providing a bit of relief._

 _The newspaper on my desk told of another Good Samaritan deed that had been done. Information had been leaked to the press of a Ponzi scheme and most of the money had been returned to the rightful owners. It was the fourth such act in the past month. All the press reported was it was a modern day robin hood. My contact down at the precinct, John Casey, said some guy named Piranha was taking the credit. If I had had any sense I would have thrown the paper in the trash, burned it, scattered its ashes everywhere, and had my mind wiped of any knowledge of it, but I didn't. That's when he walked into my life._

 _If I had known then what I know now, I would have shoved him out the door, locked it, jumped out the window - yeah, I know it's five stories off the ground, but that's how serious I am - and ran somewhere far away…but I didn't. I was sitting at my desk, my feet propped up, considering taking off my heels. I loved the way they made my legs look in the skirt I was wearing, but they were a pain. I had fixed my evening drink and was beginning to take a sip of my Belvedere with a splash of freshly squeezed grapefruit, because that's how I like it, when he knocked._

"It's open!" _I yelled. The door opened, and there he was. I couldn't help but have a slight grin when I first saw him. He stood there like a drown rat. But it wasn't just that, I knew who he was. Everyone who could read or watch a TV knew who he was, Chuck Bartowski. The son of a dead police officer that tried to bring down a Russian gangster and a former college professor that went a bit wonky after his wife's death. He left Stanford after his girlfriend was murdered, a crime never solved, and one that seemed to haunt him. He and his father had built Orion Industries, and were quite successful. Some say he had developed a problem with the drink, and I could confirm from where I was sitting he wasn't a stranger. Alcohol drifted off of him and assaulted my sense of smell. That wasn't the only sense being assaulted. I had seen pictures of him, but seeing those, and seeing the real thing…there was no comparison. I took a pull from my drink and studied him. There was no doubt, he was a long cool drink of water. He stood over six feet tall, and his jaw made me want to rub my finger along the stubble. My gaze drifted to his eyes, and something in my throat caught, not that I would ever let him see it. He had these big brown eyes that seemed like they could see into your soul. If felt like looking into them he would know if you were telling the truth or not when you spoke. That was fine with me, if I didn't speak he wouldn't know if I was lying._

"Something I can help you with, Mister?" _I asked. He glanced at the bottle, with a sort of longing. I only drank the good stuff, but I thought why not. I tilted my head toward another glass on top of the file cabinet. He took the glass, water dripping from him, poured two fingers, downed the drink, and placed the bottle back where he found it._

"Thanks," _he said. He looked down and noticed he was dripping. I nodded to the coat rack, never changing my position on the desk. He glanced at my legs, and suddenly seemed nervous. I grinned from behind the glass I was holding close to my face. I took a slow pull from my glass, as he took off his hat and coat. There was a small pool of water on the floor, but I could care less. I pulled my feet off the desk, brought the chair up to a sitting position, and stood up. He turned, looked to where I had been siting and brought his gaze up my entire 5' 10" frame…okay, close to 6 foot with my heels on. He swallowed loudly._

"I know who you are. I know you lost your girlfriend, and walked out of Stanford. I know you and your father created a new software company," _I said, as I paused for a second, playing with him. For some reason I felt like a cat, and he definitely was the mouse._ "But, my eyes are up here, Mr. Bartwoski." _He hadn't been looking anywhere inappropriate, not that I would have minded if he would, in fact he seemed to go out of his way not to. It was like he was looking into another dimension, his eyes, very unfocused. He looked startled, and looked like he was about to stammer. He calmed himself, and leaned forward, his hands on the outside of my desk. I mimicked his stance, a little something I learned in my short time on the Job, how to interrogate people. Our stances had put our faces very close together, and a heat radiated off of him that made me have cold sweats. He licked his lips nervously, and I thought about doing the same…on his, not mine. It's a good thing he found the courage to speak, because I was close to doing some speaking of my own._

"I need your help." _He said. He took a deep breath and I couldn't help myself._

"Doing what?" _I asked as seductively as I knew how. He swallowed loudly._

"People are going to die, and I need your help." _I straightened up, and smiled, intrigued. I should have ran. I should have never gotten mixed up with him, but I did get mixed up with him and that's why I have to tell you my story._

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A/N: Cue the music….Dun, dun, duhhhhhhhhh…Seriously, it's mostly written, just have to tweak it. Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


	2. Ch 2, The Pitch

A/N: This is a little different, isn't it? It's a nice change of pace. Onto the main event. I give you Walker, PI Ch 2, The Pitch

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

 _I studied him for a minute, and I made no effort to hide what I was doing. He was uncomfortable, but I didn't care. He was a good-looking guy, one who hadn't shaved for a few days, and who smelled like he had had a few drinks, but that's okay, I just needed to catch up._

"If you know someone's going to die, why do you need my help, why don't you just go to the police?" _I asked, pretty sure I already knew. He scoffed and looked at me like I was crazy._

"I don't know if you've heard, but there's some that think I had something to do with killing Jill Roberts. There are others that think I'm a drunk, and there are others still who think I just lost my mind." _He straightened, and began to pace around the room, not nervously, but like there was a need to move and keep himself active. It was like he didn't even notice it._ "All of them think I'm worthless, and even those that don't think I am won't believe me."

"Why should I believe you?" _He walked over to his coat, reached inside the pocket, pulled out a fat envelope, and dropped it on the table in front of me. I opened it, and nearly choked. I looked at the bills, reached over, poured two fingers, and knocked them back. I looked up at him, and he had a grin on his face. I wanted to knock it off his face, and I didn't know why. What bothered me the most is I didn't know if I wanted to slap it off, punch it off, or kiss it off. Okay, I did know, but I didn't want him to know._

"You don't have to believe me, I just want to hire you." _You'd think in this day and age, a female detective would be able to get just as much, or more business as a male one. You'd be wrong. I could use the money. It wasn't like I had any other cases, but part of me wondered, did he know that?_

"Why me?" _I asked, fearing the answer, but not letting him see that._

"When you were on the force, you did whatever you had to do. Some people didn't like that and thought you should leave. It wasn't right. You were good at what you did. You made a mistake and got more of a punishment than deserved, because they knew they couldn't control you. I want the best. Besides, I got treatment kinda similar when my girlfriend died." _He waved at the envelope like he didn't care._ "It's my company's money. Take it as retainer, and if I owe you more I'll gladly pay whatever. This is just to get you to consider the case. That's all. You don't take the case, you keep all the money." _I stared at him for a minute. I'd have to work this case for six months solid for me to need any more money. I was a little desperate, monetarily. I was beginning to feel a little desperate for other reasons as well, and that wasn't bothering me like I thought it should._

"You realize, when you hire me, I stay with a case until it is solved, regardless if you like the outcome or not?" _He looked down for a minute, sighed, looked back at me, and nodded. There was something about that…it just struck me…I couldn't put my finger on it. He took a deep breath, and had a look on his face like he was about to sell his soul._

"Can I hire you?" _I nodded absently, not even really realizing what I was doing. I had a client, one that actually paid up front, but there was something about him that puzzled me…in many different ways._

"It's a little late tonight, what do you say we start in the morning?" _He looked a little unhappy with that and stared at the desk, not seeming to really look at anything. He nodded. I decided to play some more._ "Did you want to start tonight?" _He shrugged, missing my intent._

"It doesn't really matter. I have nothing to go home to, so I forget that others still have other people in their lives," _He said it factually, not bitterly. I decided I wanted to pursue this, even though a voice in my head told me it was a bad idea._

"I don't have anything to go home to either," _I replied. Part of me wondered why I said that, and part of me wondered why I didn't say more. He nodded, still not looking at me._

"Tomorrow, meet me at the café across the street from the museum." _With that he turned to leave. I let him turn and start toward the coat rack before I spoke._

"Any particular time?" _He turned back around and nodded toward the envelope._

"My phone number is the envelope. Just call me before you head over there." _He waited this time to make sure I didn't have any more questions. I had one. I had a good one._

"Will you be okay tonight?" _Part of me couldn't believe my brashness, part of me couldn't believe I wasn't brasher, but I was concerned. There was something more going on here than the theft. He was hurt. The kind of hurt that will make you go to any length necessary to get revenge. See that's why I'm so mad at myself. I knew. Even then, I knew, but I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to…and I didn't want to. He never answered. He gathered his hat and coat, tipped his hat toward me, and walked out the door. If only I had never followed him….but I did._

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A/N: Seriously, this thing was so much fun to write. Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


	3. Ch 3, Personal Protection

A/N: Hi. Welcome back. Get your slow jazz playlist on, and let's follow Chuck. I give you Walker, PI, Ch 3, Personal Protection

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

 _I don't follow men…well, that's not true. When someone pays me I do, but as a general rule, I don't chase after nobody. That's what was so strange about that night. Here I was following a man I barely knew. There was just something about him. I mean there were guys who looked good, and while Chuck was okay looking, there were better looking men…but… Okay, there was something about him. Something that looked broken, something I had seen inside of me. Something I recognized from when the Job had turned on me. Was that it? Was it just a kindred spirit? Two ships passing in the night? I had no idea, but I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, but I had the strangest feeling he was the one that would burn if I found him. I was discreet…he never saw me, or so I thought. He passed in front of a liquor store and paused. He looked at the door longingly, like it was a former lover arms he wanted to run back to. Part of me wished he'd look at me like that…okay, all of me wished he'd look at me like that. I shook my head, pushing these feelings of this man I had just met away. I could see his reflection in the window, and that's when I saw his eyes…looking right at me._

"I don't remember paying you to be my bodyguard," _he said._

"Someone gives me that kind of money, I like to do my own investigation," _I replied. I pulled that one out of my backside. I never got caught like this. Why tonight? Was it him? Was he the reason I let myself slip and be seen…let my guard down?_

"The money's not dirty."

"Never thought it was."

"Making sure there's nothing more to the story?"

"Something like that." _I walked up beside him, never looking directly at him, just his reflection in the glass._ "Need something to tide you over tonight?" _He didn't say anything and just kept looking at my reflection._ "I'm not sure what you need is in that store."

"Maybe I'm just window shopping," _he replied, a slow grin crossing his face. I returned the grin._

"You can't handle it," _I quipped. He turned toward me._

"Look, I hired you to do a job, and I'm sorry about anything else. I've never been one to do this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing? Talk?" _He smiled, and I really wanted to push it further, but I was positive he wasn't ready. He had jumped in the deep end of the pool and was flailing about. I decided to do the right thing and throw him a life preserver._

"How about I make sure my client gets home okay." _He nodded, and we walked silently to his apartment. We got to the door, and he turned to thank me._ "Let me get you inside. Just in case someone saw you with all that money and decided to wait for you." _He nodded, and as he went to open the door, I drew my gun, just in case. He opened the door, and went in. It was Spartan. It was pretty obvious he had done the decorating here, or lack thereof. I walked over, shut the door, and locked it. He had a confused look on his face. I checked each room, making sure they were clear._

"You know I have been living on my own for some time, I can do this sort of thing." _I smiled at him._

"You're my client now, and besides, you've had a lot on your mind. You might miss something."

"I think I've been missing a lot," _he said softly, almost to himself. The smile changed to a mischievous grin. I walked up to him, an impish grin on my face._

"Have you been properly buttoning your shirt buttons?" _I asked, running my hand up his chest. He swallowed loudly._

"Is checking that sort of thing in your contract?"

"For you, it is." _He swallowed even louder._

"Are there any other special services I should know about?"

"Well, it has nothing to do with money you see, but there are those clients I really like I do have a special protection service where I guard them."

"Do you have a lot of those clients?" _His voice was barely above a whisper._

"You just happen to be the first." _He looked like he wanted to push me away. Like he was fighting something inside. I knew the feeling. I was fighting myself right now, losing terribly, but I really didn't care. His face showed he finally came to a decision and he looked like he was trying to find the words._

"All night?" _He asked, his voice nearly choking. I could tell this was something he didn't do. Who am I kidding it was something I didn't do, but tonight, right here, right now, it had nothing to do with what was the right thing to do, but what we both needed. I should have walked away right there. I should have left him alone, and I wouldn't be in this mess today…but I didn't._

"Not only all night, but I'll need to be close by," _I said I as I reached up to kiss him. I think his mind exploded, because I knew mine did. I made sure no one got close to him all night…no one but me._

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A/N: Let's give them some privacy, shall we? Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


	4. Ch 4, The Morning After

A/N: Three things about Noir, It's gritty and hard, Sexy Times do come at you fast (nailed it Fezzywhigg), and someone is going to betray someone else. I give you Walker, PI, Ch 4, The Morning After

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

 _The next morning I found myself at that café Chuck had wanted me to meet him at, drinking coffee. I thought about calling him as I was leaving his apartment, since he told me last night when he left the office to call him before I left, but he was lost in thought and I wasn't sure bad jokes were the way to go. I was watching the museum across the street, enjoying the day, before it got too hot. The rain the night before had brought relief, and it was actually pleasant. Chuck sat nursing a glass of ice water, saying very little. He hadn't really said anything since we sat down, and very little the entire trip to the café. Actually he had been quiet all morning, and it really didn't surprise me. From the little more than 15 hours I had known Chuck, I began to realize he didn't say much more than he found necessary. Something inside of him died with his mother and girlfriend, that much was obvious. I found it wasn't an awkward silence, it was like two old friends that just enjoyed each other's company._

 _I couldn't stop myself from thinking about last night. I was lying in bed next to him, surprised at how right it had felt. I'm not one who needs a man, but lying in his arms, I felt like I belonged, that this was right, that this was more than just something physical. It had been quiet, like it was now, and I found myself surprised when he began to speak._

"Have you ever lost someone you loved?" _he asked softly._ "Not like a parent or family member, but someone who connected with your soul?" _I shook my head against his chest, a little surprised of the intimacy of the question, but given what we had done, I guess I shouldn't have been._ "I thought part of me died that night, in fact I'm sure part of me had." _He was quiet for a second. It was like he had said too much, or not enough, or both. I found myself wanting to comfort him, but I couldn't. Even after what we had done, I didn't want to seem desperate, or needy, even if I really was._

"Tonight was just tonight," _I said softly, but knowing it wasn't. He made a noise, knowing I was lying._

"Was it?" _he asked, looking at me. Not just looking at me, but peering into my eyes like he was searching for his soul. I wanted to tell him it meant more, but before I could summon the courage, he spoke._ "Because I found something in me that I thought was dead. I found life again. I didn't know that living was a possibility anymore. Just existing to right some wrongs." _My heart nearly broke and leapt out of my chest all at once. I moved closer to him, which I didn't know was possible. I didn't like where this was going, and I asked what was on my mind._

"And what would have happened to you after you righted those wrongs?" _I paused, summoning the courage to ask what I had to know._ "I mean, if you hadn't have met me?" _I asked softly. His eyes softened for a minute and he gently moved a stray strand of hair out of my face._

"I don't know," _he answered. I didn't want to ask the next question, but I had to know. I don't know how this was happening, but he had me under his spell, and the jerk didn't even have the good sense to know it._

"Now that you've met me, what will happen when you do right those wrongs?" _I asked, feeling as vulnerable as I ever have._ _His eyes, those brown orbs, continued to look into mine, searching for something, and I hoped what he needed was there. He grinned, kissed me softly, and spoke._

"Don't know that either, I'd like to find out, but I'm not sure it's entirely up to me." _I smiled, and kissed him. I felt a weight lift off me that I didn't know existed. I don't know what it was about him, but I was planning on finding out, but first, I was gonna have some fun._

"You're not sure?" _I asked, with the sultriest smile I could muster._

"Well, I think there are some things I'd like to do, but I'd have to have permission." _I leaned in and kissed his chin, then his cheek, and stopped right beside his ear, and spoke just above a whisper._

"I don't know who you need to ask, but I'm sure if you ask whoever it is as politely as you asked me earlier, you'll get the results you want." _I smiled to myself thinking about what happened next. I pulled myself out of the memory, looked over and saw Chuck watching me, his eyebrow raised. I met his glance, and held it, raising my own eyebrow. He slowly started turning red, as I kept his gaze. This guy wasn't some Casanova. He wasn't some player, but he had me in his thralls. I still think I could have left. I still think I could have gotten away. I still think I'm lying to myself. I had it bad, and he had my fix, and I was willing to do whatever it took._

"I'd ask you what you were thinking about, but if I'm wrong I'd feel like a fool, and have my feelings hurt," _he said, finally breaking my gaze, looking down at his glass of water, and running his finger around the lip. He looked back up, and I still had the impish grin on my face._

"You're no fool," _I said simply. He smiled for a second and then it fell from his face. He looked back down at his tea._

"I'm sorry about bringing up my dead girlfriend last night," _he said quietly._ "It's just been me for a long time and I've really had no one to talk to. I know people don't want to hear that."

"It's part of what makes you what you are," _I replied, shrugging. See, right there. Right there, I knew, but I ignored all my training. Because of him. I don't chase men, especially clients, and I certainly don't sleep with them, but this guy…Chuck…he touched something inside of me that I didn't know longed for his touch._

"I wouldn't even bring it up now, but it kinda affects the case, if you are still willing to go forward with it." _I raised an eyebrow as he raised his head to look at me._

"While I admit, our business relationship got a little complicated after what transpired last night," _I began with a smile. He returned a knowing one._ "I am a professional and I have a job to do. If I was a male detective and you were a female, you know no one would say boo about us sleeping together." _He actually blushed._ "So, as much as I enjoy your company, let's get down to business."

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A/N: Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


	5. Ch 5, The Job

A/N: Walker, PI, Ch 5, The Job

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

 _Chuck smiled while still looking down at his drink. He looked up at me with a lopsided grin on his face. I just sat there, returning my own smile. I wasn't about to let him know how bad he was affecting me internally._

"I'm about to hand you a slam dunk career maker of a case," _he said, looking back down at his drink._ "The problem is, it's going to take you against some of the most powerful men in the city…and the state." _I watched him, but he never looked up at me. This was different than before. Before it was something in him, that wouldn't let him look at me, shyness, bashfulness, or something, but this…this was different, and I didn't know how._

"I got this information from different people, but none of them in ways the police can use, or would," _he continued. He paused for a second, like he wasn't sure he could go on._ "I've hesitated bringing this to anyone else because I didn't know if I could trust them, if they'd believe me, but after last night…" _He stopped. Completely stopped and looked like he wasn't going to continue._

"Listen, I can take care of myself. Tell me, and I'll figure out if I want to continue or not." _He wasn't being chauvinist or macho, he truly was worried. Anyone could see that, but I still knew there was something else. I should have walked away there, with my instincts screaming at me, but I didn't, I couldn't, and deep down, I knew he knew I couldn't._

"I guess you need the whole story of how we got this far, don't you?" _he asked. I nodded and he took a deep breath and looked away. He stared at the museum and I could see his eyes_

 _reddening, fighting off tears. Something clicked, and I thought I understood._

"This has something to do with your girlfriend," _I said, not asked. He nodded. A lump caught in my throat._ "You think you betrayed her memory with last night?" _His head whipped around with a bemused expression on his face. I was now confused._

"Last night was last night, is what someone told me," _he said with a knowing lopsided grin. I couldn't keep the smile off of my face, but I really wanted to knock that grin off of his._ "I don't regret last night, or think I cheated, or sullied my honor. But, last night that's not something that I've ever done," _he added._ "That should tell you something." _I just looked at him, worried he was falling for me. I didn't need that, it was bad enough I thought I was falling for him. I needed the job, and didn't want to feel like there were strings attached. With him, I knew there wasn't, but sometimes your mind…it just can't believe something good is happening. I was thinking maybe, until this case was over, it needed to be nothing but professionalism from me going forward, and then he went and said what he said._ "But last night, wasn't just last night to me." _I fought my jaw from smiling, but I lost._ "I need to start at the beginning."

 _He ran his hand through is hair, and took a deep breath. He looked at me and nodded._

"They caught the man who had murdered my girlfriend, you may have heard of him, Daniel Shaw." _I nodded, he was a Senator's kid._ "Daniel told me he was part of a gang, and that they were going to spring him from jail soon. He said his gang was being run by some men, but they had a big job to do. I asked him why he was so sure they were going to spring him, and he told me that he was going to turn state's evidence against the two if they didn't spring him."

"Didn't Daniel Shaw die in jail?" _I asked. Chuck nodded. There was a flash across his face, was it guilt, was it rage, I don't know it could have been indigestion, I'm not a feelings reader._

"There was a power outage and the computer and camera system's generator didn't kick on. He was killed during that time period. I was there to talk to him about who these two men were, and he died before I could find out."

 _Something about that story seemed a little off to me, but I let it go. I shouldn't have. I should have trusted my instincts, but I didn't. I just let it go…like I should of done with him._

"After he died, I learned everything I could about Daniel, and I found his crew. I tracked them, found out who they worked for and followed them. _He paused, the concern look on his face, I just waited. I gave him a look that told him to just spit it out._ "I think Daniel works for Alexi Volkoff."

"The Russian gangster that poses as a real estate tycoon and business man? Also the man who your mother was trying to bring down?" _I asked, now understanding his concern. He nodded. I thought for a minute._ "Isn't he tied to the governor?" _Chuck just nodded again, and stayed quiet. Something feel into place._ "Are you telling me that you think Ted Roark is the second man?" _Chuck nodded. A newspaper was on the table beside me, I grabbed it and scanned it looking for the story that I thought I had seen in last night's edition. There was the follow-up. Ted Roark was in the city staying in one of Volkoff's hotel rooms._ "He's in town for a few days." _Chuck nodded._

"Volkoff's hotel has a vault in it," _he said just above a whisper. I looked at him. This was getting stranger by the second. Why did he need me? Why did I let him suck me in? I knew why, I knew exactly why, and heaven help me, I think he knew why as well._

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A/N: Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


	6. Ch 6, The Break-In

A/N: Just to clarify, we know that Daniel Shaw is the hired shooter that killed Jill. We don't know who hired him or why...yet...I give you Walker, PI, Ch 6, The Break In

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

"What does the vault have to do with anything?" _I asked. He just looked at me._

"There were two items stolen from that museum," _Chuck said._ "One was a mask, with what I think is a flash drive in it, detailing their criminal operations. The second is the rare Maltese Tiger."

"You think the Tiger and that mask is in that vault?" _Chuck nodded._ "Why?"

"Because I tailed the thieves the night they stole it." _Something didn't sit right with me about that, but I ignored it and listened to the rest of his story._ "I'm willing to bet my entire bank account that there is a Maltese Tiger in the vault."

"And how exactly do we get in there?" _I asked. This was nuts. If he actually had all the proof, why did he need me? His story made sense about those on the Job not trusting him, but if he had tailed them… Something wasn't adding up._

"You have a friend on the force still?" _He asked. I nodded._ "One that might want to bust Volkoff, but never quite had the evidence needed?" _I nodded again._ "What if I told you there is video of the robbery, and Volkoff's face is on it." _I don't know if my mouth literally dropped, but I felt like it did._ "Word is Roark is gearing up for a presidential run. I'm sure he could trade the tiger for some donations channeled through super PACS." _That made a lot of sense. This all made a lot of sense, except for Volkoff._

"Why would Alexi ever do something like that? He could be caught. That's sloppy, and that isn't something Ted Roark does." _Chuck shrugged._

"I've heard word that Roark has loyalty tests sometimes." _Chuck looked away as he responded, like he couldn't look me in the eye._ "That sounds like exactly something Roark would make Volkoff do."

"We're going to need that video." _Chuck shook his head._

"See, that's a problem. The guy who has the video, and has hidden it, owes Volkoff." _There was a look on his face when he said that, a look that didn't fit just right._ "He's a security guard now. He was one of the best computer guys in the world, but he got burnt, and has been hesitant to do any kind of work like that ever since. He fixed the feeds after the robbery, figured out what happened, and erased the evidence, but not before keeping his own copy to blackmail Volkoff with."

"How do you know all of this?" _He grinned._

"We used to be tight, before, well, Jill," _he responded. I smiled at him, but something wasn't sitting right with me, and I couldn't put my finger on it. I glanced down at the paper and saw that there was supposed to be a meeting tonight between city leaders for revitalization. I looked at everyone who was supposed to be there, and some of them while in charge of parts of the city, were thought to be in organized crime._

"You think he's going to move the statue tonight?" _Chuck shrugged._

"That makes a lot of sense," _he said. I blew out a breath in frustration. This was all happening fast. Something was really bothering me, but I really didn't have time to think about it…almost like it was planned that way._

"You said someone was going to die, how is anyone going to die from this?"

"A Russian Gangster having his partner be Governor, controlling the police? I think a lot of people are going to die." _He leaned back, staring at me. Everyone knew Alexi was dirty, now to have proof._

"We've got to have that tape, or we can't do anything," _I stressed. Chuck nodded._

"Maybe you could influence him," _Chuck said._

"You want me to ask him out?" _I asked, starting to get mad at what I thought he was suggesting. Chuck blanched and then looked embarrassed._

"No, I mean intimidate him," _Chuck said._ "You kinda had a reputation of doing that on the Job," _he added quietly. I sat for a second, not wanting him to realize I wasn't mad. I stood, walked over to him slowly and bent down, my lips inches from his ears._

"Do I intimidate you, Chuck?" _I asked. He gulped and nodded. I smiled._ "Good." _I straightened and headed out of the café to the museum. Chuck eventually followed._

 _We made our way over to the museum. There, Chuck found the man he was looking for, Morgan Grimes. Morgan was a strange little guy with brown hair, short, and with a beard that was quite impressive. He looked like he was trapped however. Knowing what his skills were, I suspect he was bored with his job, but had no way of changing it, that's where Chuck and I came in._

"Morgan, I'd like you to meet Private Investigator Walker. I need you to tell her everything you told me." _Morgan looked at Chuck strangely._

"I don't know what you're talking about, Chuck. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do," _he said, as if to dismiss us. Chuck surprised me by cutting the space between them quickly, grabbing his arm, and whispering where I could hear._

"Do you want to be stuck in this forever?" _Morgan looked defeated, and shook his head no._ "She can help you, but you've got to help us." _Morgan looked at me. I nodded and he sighed. There was something off, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Morgan looked resigned to help us, but I was wondering, we were about to help him, be free, and for the life of me, he didn't look like he wanted to be free. He pulled up footage, and there it was, Alexi Volkoff stealing both pieces from the museum. I shook my head. This was so unlike him, yet here it was, on film._

"So?" _he asked, standing behind me, his hot breath hitting my neck and my ear. I was having trouble not thinking about last night. A lot of trouble._

"So maybe we go have a conversation with some people." _I wasn't sure what to do. I get why he didn't go to the police, but what good did it do to have me go to those two? Something was going on, and I should have listened to myself, but I didn't, and my life was never the same._

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A/N: Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


	7. Ch 7, The Confrontation

A/N: Thanks to Zettel for a suggestion. It was a small change but made it even better. Find something to hold on to, things begin to unfold. Walker, PI, Ch 7, The Confrontation

A/N 2: Also, if you aren't reading May Your Walls Know Joy by Halfachance, go do so right now. As a writer of single parent Chuck fics, that one had me smiling up a storm. Enough fluff! Back to the Noir

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

 _We went to the hotel as my senses screamed at me. I didn't listen, I was in his trall. We told Roark's people that we needed to talk to him and Volkoff about a very serious incident. We were almost pushed away, when Chuck added in that it was about the Maltese Tiger. The Tiger's disappearance apparently wasn't public knowledge, but Roark apparently knew about. I guess that made sense given he was the Governor, and he had supported the museum over the years. We were ushered quickly to Roark's penthouse, so quickly they didn't even check us for weapons. As we were escorted I saw the change come over Chuck. Gone was the adorable, blushing man that made my heart race. The man with me was hard, had an edge, and wanted revenge. It was almost like someone had flipped a switch. His eyes gleamed in anticipation and I knew then, deep, deep down, I knew, but I couldn't believe. I didn't want to believe. It was the beginning of my downfall._

"How do the two of you know about the Maltese Tiger?" _Roark asked us as we entered his office. No introduction, no pleasantries, just down to business._ "I acquired that piece for the museum." _I turned to Chuck. Did he know? He tried to look surprised. In the past 24 hours I'd seen a look of looks, and I knew his surprised look. That was no surprised look. That was a fake surprised look._

"There's a chance one of your own stole it," _Chuck said. Roark stood._ "Volkoff," _Chuck said simply. Roark stared at Chuck._ "See for yourself, it's in his safe. If we're wrong, we'll apologize and leave." _I stared at Chuck. He had taken the back seat this entire time, and now, now he was in control. I thought about that, and the last time he was in control, a smile ghosted my lips but I had to steel my emotions. Roark picked up the phone, made a call, and told us to follow him. He led us to the mysterious vault, flanked by two security guards, and I saw a grin on Chuck Bartowski's face. Not of joy, but one that spoke of satisfaction. My mind was spinning. It kept coming back to one conclusion, but that wasn't possible. Volkoff met us, and Chuck gave him a hard look._

"Something you want to say?" _Volkoff said to Chuck. Chuck just stared at him._

"No, more like something you ought to say to Mr. Roark." _Chuck was certain, very certain. Too certain. His hand seemed to flinch toward something but he steadied it. Volkoff didn't notice._

"If there's a Maltese Tiger in here, it's because he stole it to sell off for superpac money." _Volkoff looked very pleased with himself, like he had done no wrong. He opened the safe, and that's when all hell broke loose. Volkoff's and Roark's mouths both fell open seeing the statue. They both turned toward each other. You could see on their faces that both were shocked, but neither trusted the other. I caught Chuck's face out of the corner of my eye, and saw a flash of a smirk. I'm not a reader of emotions, but something about that look made me wonder, really wonder, not for the first time, was this all too good to be true?_

"I knew I could never trust you," _Volkoff screamed, grabbed a gun from one of the stunned bodyguards, and shot Roark. Roark was dead before he hit the floor. The entire room was in shock except for one person, Chuck. Chuck drew his weapon that I didn't even know he was carrying, and Volkoff turned toward him. Volkoff lifted his gun as to shoot Chuck, when Chuck's gun went off. Volkoff began to fall, as Chuck stepped in front of me, protecting me from any gunshots. As he fell, Volkoff, squeezed off a round that buried itself in the wall above Chuck's head. Chuck fired twice more, center-mass, and Volkoff was dead. Chuck lowered his weapon, looking satisfied._

 _For a moment I wondered how we got here. It was almost too convenient. It made little sense, but as we were taught in the academy, trying to make sense out of nonsense will drive you crazy. Chuck handed his weapon over to Captain Casey when he arrived, ending this nightmare…or so I thought._

 _It took a while to sort everything out, but Chuck was quickly cleared. Captain Casey told him he was free to go, and all but told him to leave. Chuck started to speak to me, but I simply told him I had a lot to do, and would call him as soon as I could. Part of me couldn't wait, and part of me….I don't know. The museum experts arrived soon to verify the artifact. When they arrived and looked at the piece, you could almost immediately see their incredulous looks. The tiger was a fake._

"All of this for a fake, seems kinda serendipitous, doesn't it Walker?" _Casey asked me. I looked at him. The question made no sense and I was confused._ "You know, that the two men who had Chuck's girlfriend killed had a fake statue that led to one shooting the other, and then Chuck killing Volkoff?"

"They had Chuck's girlfriend killed?"

"Best we can tell. Jill saw something she shouldn't have."

"Did Chuck know about this?" _Casey looked at me. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, and when he did, he lowered his head like he couldn't look me in the eye._

"He won't be charged with anything. A politician and a mobster that were as dirty as the day is long are gone now thanks to the work you two did."

"What about the mask?" _Casey shrugged._

"There was no mask reported stolen." _I stood there, using all my training not to have my mouth open in shock._ "Good work Walker," _he said, putting on his cap and heading out the door._ "Anyone needs a detective I'll send them your way." _With that he was gone. I had so many questions. Where was the real tiger, who had it? Was there ever a mask? I don't know who had the real Maltese Tiger, but it didn't matter, because I had done the job I was hired for…right?_

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A/N: Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


	8. Ch 8, The Real Case Begins

A/N: Sorry, I forgot to post this earlier...So we had some serious action last chapter, and Sarah isn't happy...she's about to get even more unhappy...Walker, PI, Ch 8, The Real Case Begins

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

 _That night, I slept in my bed, alone. I tossed and turned all night. I sat up, frustrated. It wasn't the heat bothering me, it was this case….and other things. I spent some of the day with the cops to finalize their report. It was an open and shut case…but it wasn't. I didn't call Chuck. I went back to the office, got the money, and put it in the bank. I then went and paid six months rent on the office, and six months rent on my apartment. I had plenty left, but I wanted to make sure I got those two paid. I had a sinking suspicion if I was right, I would want to return the money._

 _Things weren't making sense. There was a nice little story for the cops, wrapped with a bow, but in what world did any of it make sense? The cops didn't want to look too hard because two men they knew were criminals were dead. As I sat in bed, lightening flashed outside my window. I looked on the nightstand beside the bed at my phone. I should just call him, go see him, and get on with my life. That's what everyone else would have done. The thing is, Chuck Bartwoski hired me to solve a case. I'm not sure why he did, because if he knew anything about me, he knew I would solve it, and part of me wondered if he really wanted me too._

 _I should let it go, my heart told me to move on, and let it go. I laid down with the intention of sleeping. Tomorrow I would call Chuck and see where that lead…the thought of that didn't sit right with me, with my mind. I knew what I had to do, what I owed myself. The question was would I hate myself for it? As I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, I saw him, the way he looked at me…I know what I wanted to do, and what I had to do…why couldn't they be the same? I knew why, until I had the answers, any decision I came to was based off of incomplete facts, and I had to know. I hate myself sometimes. Why did I ever take this case?_

 _A few days later I was sitting at my desk, looking at all the messages I had from potential clients. Casey had been better than his word and had sent me many potential cases. Others would be happy with that…me, I wondered….I found it was the case I had supposedly closed that I kept thinking about. Captain Casey not answering my direct question the day before left me leery of everything I thought I knew. That wasn't true…it left me leery of what I was supposed to think. I was pretty sure I knew what was going on, I just didn't want to admit it, because if I did... As I sat there, swirling my drink, I wondered was I upset at what I had thought had happened, or was I upset because no one had ever cared like that for me? Did he care like that for me? As I pondered this question, my door opened, with no preceding knock. Chuck came in, trying to look confident, but failing miserably. I hadn't seen him since the incident at the hotel. I hadn't even talked to him. Part of me was very unhappy about that. Most of me was very unhappy about that. Okay, all of me was very unhappy about that, but I wasn't sure how to handle what I was thinking._

"It's been a while," _he said. I just looked at him, swirling my drink, pretending to be unaffected by him, lying to myself. I did that well._

"I've been busy, paperwork, phone ringing, that kind of stuff." _I replied, trying to keep things professional, why, I didn't know. Yes I did. Deep down I didn't care what he did, but professionally…professionally I was supposed to, and I wasn't about to throw away my career for him, no matter how he made me feel. That was my line in the sand._

"I thought maybe I had done something," _he replied. I sat up, confused. Mostly by my own feelings, and my response was petty, but I needed space to sort this out._

"You never called me," _I responded, flippantly._

"You said, you would call me," _he replied, looking unsure of himself. I shrugged._ "Have I done something?"

"I don't know, you tell me, Chuck. You tell me exactly where you were the night Daniel Shaw was killed, or better yet, why were you armed when we entered the hotel, or my personal favorite, why did you hire me?" _The look on his face was almost one of relief._

"I needed someone to help me. You know where I was when Shaw was killed, and I didn't trust those two is why I was armed." _I stared at him._ "Perhaps you should tell me what you think it is you think I've done and I can know what it is I should be explaining." _I smiled, I had him, and we both know it. All he had to do was tell me the truth, but he couldn't. I don't know if he was too ashamed of what he did, didn't trust me, or a little of both, but right then, I didn't care. I had to fix this for me. As much as I wanted him, I had to put me first, because no one else was going to. The problem was, part of me felt putting me first was letting him off, but I couldn't and wouldn't be someone in this town that was not respected._

"Get out," _I said softly, but intensely. His jaw dropped, it was clear he didn't think I would throw him out. I didn't want him to go, but he had to, while I figured all of this out. I pointed toward the door._ "Go. I have a mess to clean up, because I think someone played me, and I'm going to look like a world class chump that got taken by my client. I have work to do." _I paused._ "Unless you'd like to tell me exactly what it is I need to look for to clean up this mess, I don't need you around." _I gave him one more chance, but the look on his face told me that he wasn't going to hand it to me on a platter. That was fine, I was good, and I began to wonder if he knew exactly how good, and that's why he hired me; to actually figure out this mess because he couldn't take the guilt. Chuck nodded and turned to go. He paused, reached in his coat, turned, and tossed an envelope onto my desk._

"Give that to Morgan, and tell him the debt is paid, just like he was promised. Tell him I said to give you anything you ask for." _With that he turned to go. He stopped, his hand on the doorknob._ "I never meant to hurt you in this. I never meant for us to get involved. That much was real."

"Doesn't make this hurt any less," _I replied. He nodded, and I knew. I knew what he did, and I knew why he wanted me to know. He was directionless. Why he picked me to be the one to figure all of this out, I didn't know, and frankly, I really didn't want to know. I wanted to move on with my life, and I probably would have. I probably would have left it all alone, and never figured it all out, but what he said next floored me._

"You do what you need to do, but what I did, is what others wished people would do for them." _With that he left. He shut the door. I was so mad, I picked up a paperweight from my desk and threw it at the door, shattering the glass. He never turned around. He headed down the hall and out of my life. I put my head in my hands, and tried to figure out who I was maddest at, him, or me. I sighed and reached for my phone. He had me and he knew he did. I don't know what it was about him that drew me too him, but I had to figure this out, and I then had to figure out what to do about him. I was going to charge him for the window, but that would require me to see him, and that wasn't happening. I was never going to see Chuck Bartowski again. At least that's what I kept telling myself. At this point even I didn't believe me._

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A/N: Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


	9. Ch 9, A Real Friend

A/N: The next to last chapter. Have you figured it all out? Are you worried for anyone's saftey? How will it end? Let's find out. Walker, PI, Ch 9, A Real Friend

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

 _I left my office a few hours later, after having paid a guy to fix my door. He promised he would stay until it was done. I made my way to the museum, entering just before it closed, finding the security guard I was looking for. The second Morgan saw me he tried to head the other way._

"He gave you up," _I said, just loud enough for him to hear. He stopped in his tracks, turned, and hurried to me, motioning me to be quiet. He led me to his office and shut the door. I didn't say anything, handed him the envelope, and he opened it and scanned it. Relief filled his face._

"I want to know everything," _I said simply. He nodded. He opened a safe on the wall and pulled out a flash drive and put it in his computer. I watched someone walking up to the tiger, wearing one of those suits they use in motion capturing videos._ "He never stole it, and there never was a mask with a flashdrive in it," _I said softly. Morgan simply clicked another video and I saw Chuck taking what looked to be the tiger but in another part of the museum, not in the display area._ "He is the computer wiz, not you." _Morgan nodded._ "He's Piranha." _Morgan smiled, pride in his friend evident on his face._

"We keep a fake tiger on premises to put up when we need to clean the real on," _he said softly. I looked at him wanting to hear the rest, because I now thought I knew._ "We took it a few days ago. I knew a guy at the hotel, and we got to see the vault. Nothing was in there at the time, and while he showed us around, Chuck placed the tiger during the tour when no one was looking."

"Where's the real tiger?" _Morgan looked ashamed._

"It's going to be found by me tonight where the fake is stored. You and Chuck are getting the reward money if they offer it to me," _he said looking away._

"It was all a setup?" _I asked. Morgan nodded, looking sick._ "It was all a setup and you were in on it." _Morgan blanched._

"He needed someone to get him into Roark's without raising suspicion. I didn't know how far he was planning on taking things. If I'd have known…" _he trailed off._

"You'd of still helped him be cleared," _I answered. Morgan looked down, and nodded sheepishly. I understood. He was trapped by how much he owed, the problem was I thought it was money. What Morgan Grimes owed him was something I didn't know existed._

"I'll go to the police and admit everything," _he replied._ "Chuck told me when it was over if I wanted to tell all, I could." _He looked at me for direction. I should have told him to go directly to the police. I wasn't that worried about me. My reputation had taken hits over the years, but everyone knew I was a good detective, and actually this would look good for me; making sure the truth came out, no matter what. I was torn, Morgan didn't deserve this, and knew I what would happen to Chuck._

"Let's hold off on that until you hear from me," _I replied. He nodded, and handed me the flash drive._

"You take it, and if you need me to go to the station, just tell me." _I nodded._ "You also deserve the reward money." _I shrugged._ "He was here earlier, and told me to do whatever you told me to," _he said softly. I turned to look at Morgan._ "He cares about you, a lot. That's why I didn't want to talk to you earlier." _If her cared so much why did he get me involved? I knew why, I just don't think he planned on me….I shook my head, clearing it._

"Why didn't he tell you about the debt being removed?" _Morgan smiled. He handed me the envelope. I opened it, and pulled out the paper inside. I read it and while I didn't completely understand it, a tear came to my eye._

 _This is a life-debt of one Chewbacca (Morgan) to one Han Solo (Chuck). Chewbacca being of sound mind and body gives this life deft to help Han get revenge on those who took away his Leia._

"It's Star Wars."

"Because that makes it better."

"You know he was wrong." _I looked at him, having no ability to figure what he would say next._ "She wasn't his Leia." _I had no idea what that even meant._ "Chuck wanted you to have something about this case you'd enjoy if I know him. He did what he did to get even with them. At least that's what he told me, I just didn't realize how far he'd go at the time. He also thought you'd do the right thing in the end about him. He didn't know what it was any more." _I nodded. Chuck wanted to get his friend out of his debt and give me something to enjoy. Idiot, I know what I'd enjoy. I needed to get a grip, and quick. I got up, opened the door, and started to leave._

"He also thinks I'm less likely to turn him over to the police knowing what might happen to you. Don't tell him that he's off the hook, yet," _I said. Morgan nodded._ "I'm still not sure what I'm going to do." _I turned around and started out the door._

"I don't believe you," _he said, causing me to stop, hell I didn't believe me. I smiled, not letting him see, waved over my back to him and left the museum. I headed home, and enjoyed the company of some strong drink while I thought._

 _The next afternoon, as I sat at my desk, nursing the hangover I had acquired from thinking about that fool half the night, I heard a knock on my new glass door window._

"Come in," _I yelled, causing myself to wince. I glanced down at the drawer in which I kept my emergency stash, and thought about the only cure I knew of. Hair of the dog and all of that. I looked up as Captain Casey walked in, smirking. This would be fun._

"Good afternoon, Sarah," _he said, a little too loudly. I gave him a flat look. He smiled and looked at the empty chair. I shrugged, not really caring what he wanted. He sat, looking very pleased with himself. He placed what looked to be a check on my desk, and I verified that's exactly what it was. The amount made me straighten and emit a low whistle all at the same time._

"Make sure your partner gets his half," _Casey said, earning another glare._

"He's not my partner," _I nearly spat out. I composed myself._ "He brought me a case, and I solved it, easy as that." _Casey nodded thoughtfully._

"That's a shame. You know I've seen the work that both of you have done, and you were both good detectives, don't tell him I said that. He worked on his mother's case for a long time. He should have been a detective, he had his mother's skills. He worked off book, by himself, most of it online, and brought me everything he found, it just wasn't enough. There is no telling what the two of you could do together." _I gave him the same flat look as earlier and started to tell him to leave when he said something that stopped me short._ "I mean, you're obviously better off without him around."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, he's a walking time bomb," _Casey said casually._ "Chuck doesn't really believe in man's laws anymore. Chuck is more about dishing out proper punishment after both his girlfriend and mother were killed, plus his dad going batty. _He shrugged._ As long as Jill was alive, he had someone who kept his feet on the ground. A moral compass if you will, but when she was killed, by a hired gun in Shaw, for what looks to be simply seeing an exchange between the deceased Governor and some shady people in a parking garage…well, he lost his way." _I sat there taking in what he had said._

"You know I once thought you two would have been perfect partners, if you could have made this team up last. On the job, you made a mistake and paid more than you should. Let's be honest, I was made to let you go due to a pending lawsuit. Now, if you were his partner, you probably could have been the compass he needed. Without anyone…well…Chuck lost in his head is dangerous." _Casey got up to leave._ "Maybe I should take the check and have two reissued. One for you and one for him." _I stared at Casey for a second. He was still smirking. I shook my head, and he nodded._

"Do you think everyone who died had it coming?" _I asked softly._

"Miss Walker, I am appalled. I am a police officer and I must uphold the law at every opportunity."

"So, the fact that Chuck just happened to be in the building when the computers went down, Daniel ended up dead, and you were there as well, is just coincidental?" _Casey looked at me._ "I mean there's no computer expert who could see if someone shut the system down from your terminal?" _Casey smiled. He leaned forward and put both hands on the outside edges of her desk. I stood up and matched his look, our faces inches apart._

"They were all dogs that deserved to die."

"So someone did the city a service?"

"I'd pin a medal on him if I could."

"That vigilantism."

"That's riding this city of rabid dogs." _Casey straightened._ "If one man were behind this, of course."

"Of course," _I said, straightening. Casey nodded at me, and walked out the door. I stood there looking down at the check, trying to decide what to do. I should have given the check to Casey to split, but I didn't, and I knew why, even if I wouldn't admit it to myself._

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A/N: Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


	10. Ch 10, The End

A/N: Here we are...the end...Chuck is broken, Sarah isn't sure what to do...well...that's what she keeps telling herself...remember, Noir is filled with broken people...and if these two aren't broken, then they're both a little bent...Walker, PI, Ch 10, The End

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

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( _Italics indicate a voiceover_ )

 _The next day, I found myself in front of his door. There I stood, trying to figure out exactly what I was doing. Nearly every part of me said to turn around, leave, walk away and never see him again…but I couldn't. He had gotten into me, into my soul, into my skin, into my heart, and those were the parts I was listening to. He had done something terrible, but I had to ask myself, if it had happened to me, what I would have done? I knew the answer. I put my hand on the knob and turned it. I heard a gun being cocked, but I ignored him. His hand was shaking, and when he saw it was me, he lowered it. For a second I wondered if he was considering eating a bullet. He sat at a table. On it was a glass and cheap whiskey, probably Rotgut. It was unopened. I picked it up, walked over to the sink, opened it, turned to watch him, and poured it down the drain. He never moved, except to put his gun back on the table. I put the empty bottle on the counter by the sink, walked over to him, pulled an envelope, and an USB drive out of my bag and placed it in front of him. I picked the gun up, took out the clip, the bullet out of the chamber, and put it in my purse as he watched me, never flinching. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. His eyes went to the USB drive and he looked back up at me, and that when I finally saw what I was looking for, shame._

"I brought you your share of the reward," _I said. He closed his eyes in disgust with himself._ "Funny thing is, my phone is ringing off the hook now because of you." _I looked around his apartment, still as bare as the last time I was here._ "Maybe you should use the money to do something with this place."

"I've got all of the money from my company," _he said, looking sick. I wasn't sure what to say. He pushed the envelope toward me._ "You keep it."

"Buy yourself something nice," _I said, about at wits end, and turned to go._

"What if I wanted to buy part of your agency?" _he asked. I turned around, one eyebrow raised._

"I don't work with drunks, thieves, or murders," _I replied. He nodded, knowing he was all three._ "I mean one can redeem themselves from being a drunk…" _I trailed off, not really knowing how to end the sentence._ "Funny thing is, there was a time during this case I thought you could be the partner I need, the one to keep me in check from doing something stupid. The partner I needed with the skills I didn't have. Appears I was wrong." _Again he nodded, with nothing really to say. I should of left. I should have walked away, but what would I have done if I had been him? I know what I would have done._ "I had a whole lot of ideas of ways I could repay you for everything you've done for me," _I said, looking right at him, leaving no doubt as to what I meant. He swallowed, loudly. I couldn't help but grin as I slowly walked toward him._ "Now, I have a few problems because of you," _I said, tracing my finger up the buttons on his shirt. He was trembling, but there was no smell of alcohol on him. Was the trembling from me, or the withdrawals, I couldn't say._

"Since I caused the problems, it seems only right I find a way to make them go away," _he said, his voice catching. I looked right into his eyes. He started to lean toward me, and I put my hand on his chest stopping him, his lips an inch from mine. He could have leaned in, but he was too broken, too beaten, to think of it._

"If I turn in the real thief, I become a laughing stock." _He nodded, again, just inches from my lips, I couldn't help myself, reached up, grabbed his head, and pulled him in. There was no alcohol on his lips. There was a desperation in him, a hunger, that couldn't be disguised. I wanted to give in, but no, he didn't deserve anything more. I pushed him away, but I wanted to pull him in._ "It's a pity, there's so much more we could have done." _With that, I turned to walk out of his life forever. Part of me prayed he'd say something, anything._

"Wait," _he shouted. Everything in me jumped. I composed myself. I'd been played and he had to make things right. I turned back around to face him. His eyes had a desperation in them that made me want run to him, but I stood my ground. If I had any sense, I'd have walked out that door, but I didn't. Love makes you do funny things, and I had fallen, hard._ "I lost my moral compass. They killed Jill and my mom. Jill didn't do anything, except see something she shouldn't have, and they killed her and got away with it." _I stared at him, the same thoughts having run through my mind for the last several days._

"So you killed a man, stole a priceless artifact to frame them for something they didn't do, so they would go to jail for something they did do." _He nodded his head. I was quiet for a moment, and when I spoke again, it was very softly._ "Is there anyone else you would do that for?" _I asked. I hated myself right then. I sounded so needy, so desperate. Who was he? This guy who would risk everything, all the money he had, his freedom, just to get revenge…no justice, on those who had his girlfriend killed. He was silent for a minute as he looked at me. He looked at the ground, his shoulders slumped. I nodded. I found my answer…and then….then he surprised me._

"I don't know," _he said softly. Then he shook his head and chuckled to himself. He looked at me, and I began to melt inside. He was so lying._ "We both know I'm lying. I sound like a fool. I loved her. I would move mountains for her, but she's out of my life. Forever." _He paused and looked me straight in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper._ There's probably someone else I would do this for. _The look on his face made my knees buckle. There was no doubt who that someone was, and right now it was I could do not to find out what all he would do for her. "_ What I do know is I would do anything to make this right." _I looked at him for a minute._

"Anything?" _I asked. He nodded._ "You'd go confess to crimes that no one knows you committed to make this right?" _He nodded._ "Would you live with what you've done, and keep quiet?" _He nodded._ "Would you quit drinking? Would you quit drinking even when those around you every day still did? Would you?"

"I already did." _I looked at him suspiciously. He raised his hands in defense._ "I quit after you kicked me out of your office. I did it to give me the courage to do what I had to do."

"We keep everything we talk about between you and me?"

"Absolutely." _I raised an eyebrow._ "It was a victimless crime, and the statue is back." _I walked toward him, slowly. I felt a tiger stalking my prey, and have no doubt, he was dinner._

"Daniel Shaw?

"He was a murderer that deserved to die for what he did," _he answered. I couldn't disagree with him._

"So we're clear, you killed him?"

"Yes." _I studied him. Everything in me wanted him._

"I'm the victim. I could lose everything if it was ever found out." _He surprised me by walking to the kitchen quickly. He came back with a hammer, worrying me for a second, before he brought it down on the USB drive destroying all the evidence._ "Just like that?" _He smiled and walked toward me, hammer on the table. He stopped inches from me._ "You work for me now." _He smiled._

"Yes ma'am."

"You don't drink anymore."

"Yes ma'am."

"And if you don't, then maybe, just maybe, I could think about those repayment ideas I had earlier." _He smiled at me, and my heart skipped a beat. I needed some distance before I showed that fool how much power he had over me. I turned, walked toward the door, and opened it._

"You're just gonna leave?" _I stopped at his words, go my head screamed._

"I don't get involved with drunks I told you." _I had barely turned my head._

"What about murders?" _His tone was lighter, playful. Stay, my heart said._

"He deserved it, they all did." _I played his game, I shouldn't have._

"What about thieves?" _His voice sounded like he was moving closer, I hoped it was._

"It was a victimless crime." _I may have bounced a shoulder._

"I'm a recovering alcoholic." _He said it so cheekily, I knew his game, he wasn't really an alcoholic._

"You haven't recovered enough yet." _I needed to stop this, now because if I didn't…_

"I was right about you, you know. They said you would do anything to solve a case, and I knew you wouldn't. I knew you'd do the right thing. Maybe we can help each other be each other's moral compasses." _Something in me melted with those words, all my resolve, all my anger, and only one thing was left. Love._

"And what if both our compasses are broken now? What if we're both willing to do anything for each other?" _I had just asked the most dangerous questions ever, and he knew it._

"That…well…that could be interesting." _With that I shut the door, and locked it. I turned around and stared at him. I should have walked out that door, but I'm glad I didn't._

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed it...It was different, fun, and just a moment to step back from the normal Chuck fanfic. Special thanks to Steampunk . Chuckster, Zettel, and AngelGurl0 for all their assistance on this one. Reviews and PMs are always welcomed!

DC


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